Looking at my lover laid out besides me, curled up in my arms, the warmth of her body against mine. My hand wanders across her bare skin and I am thinking of the three ways I touch my lover.
My fingertips brush across her body with the lightest of touches. Exploring the outline of her form, the curve of her hips, of her stomach, of her breasts. Touching her to learn her shape, how she fits in my arms.
My fingers brush across her skin, marveling at the softness of her body, the smoothness of her skin. Caressing a little more firmly, exploring the feel of her in my arms. Smooth skin, soft curly hair, slick with sweat. Touching her to learn texture, how smooth, how slick, how soft, how sweaty she is.
My palm brushes against her skin as my fingers dig in, grabbing at her body, pulling her tighter against me. Holding her, touching her, tightly enough to briefly leave marks. My hand on her hip, pulling her against me, bodies sticking together with our sweat. Touching her to learn how she feels in my arms, how she feels besides me, how she feels besides me, how it feels to have her as my lover.